


swallowing panic in the face of its force

by matchsticks_p (matchsticks)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Artist Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Complete, Crossdressing Nicky, First Time, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Needs a Hug, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Sex Work Positive, Sex Worker Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Soft Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, one brief instance of unnamed character being coercive with nicky at the beginning, surprise Booker feels, that's very quickly resolved and nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchsticks/pseuds/matchsticks_p
Summary: Nicky is a sex worker just about to get out of that life, after taking one last client. Joe is a sensitive artist and late bloomer respectfully seeking a professional to teach him what he's missed out on.And then feelings get involved.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 77
Kudos: 359





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvengersNewB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/gifts).



They met on a Tuesday night. Nicky will always remember it thereafter because it was supposed to be the night he turned his last trick. And, in a way, it was.

Nicky was wearing what Nile called his 'girl mode.' He usually was when he worked the streets because it attracted the kind of men who were willing to pay more. In his normal day to day, he wore whatever suited his mood and didn't like to think of clothing as having any particular sex. But at night, when he was working, he knew that tiny skirts and big heels and red lipstick on his clearly masculine face brought the kind of clients who would pay extra for him to do something degrading and even more for him to keep it a secret.

He was one week away from the first pay check from his new job, but rent was due tomorrow and so he was looking for one last anonymous fuck in an hourly motel room to make ends meet before he said goodbye to this old life forever.

And then, along came Joe. 

Nicky assumed he was lost and coming over to ask for directions at first. He didn't dress in the dark nondescript clothes that men who frequented this alley did, he didn't try to cover his face, didn't look around furtively to make sure no one saw him. He approached with a wide smile and bouncy curly hair, making direct eye contact like he saw Nicky as a person. Nicky threw his cigarette to the ground and flicked a strand from his wig out of his eyes, turning his attention away from him to another potential client who fit his expectations much better.

Dark clothes, aging ungracefully, the bitterness of his own shame and self-loathing making him rough and angry. Maybe Nicky had sucked him off before, but he didn't recognize him. The man grabbed Nicky by the wrist without asking if Nicky wanted to go with him, pulling him along hard enough to make him stumble. 

"Hey," Smily Curly Guy protested, putting himself between them, "you don't have to be so rude."

Dark Clothes looked at him in a combination of bafflement and disgust, sneering.

Nicky wrenched his arm out of his hand and said, "It's fine. I'm fine."

"He shouldn't treat you like that," Smily Curly Guy argued. "He shouldn't treat _anyone_ like that."

The commotion was starting to draw the attention of people from across the street, which was too much attention for Dark Clothes, who stalked away muttering about how apparently no one wanted to make any money around here.

Maybe realizing he had cost Nicky money, Smiley Curly Guy apologized and then, for no reason Nicky could fathom, he said, "I'm Joe."

Nicky stared at him.

"My name. I'm Joe. I know it sounds fake but it actually—well my full name is Yusuf but I go by Joe, it's what everybody calls me, and I read a lot of people online saying I should give a fake name but it doesn't feel right to ask for intimate things from someone you can't even respect enough to tell your real name."

"Intimate things," Nicky repeated

"You know. Romance things. The things that happen in private between adults who hold each other in high enough esteem to give of their bodies to each other."

"You know I'm a hooker, right?"

"You're a professional in the field of sex work," Joe corrected, then hastily added "although I respect your right to use whatever label you prefer for yourself."

Joe has said the word 'respect' more times in one minute than Nicky has heard all year. And apparently he didn't just wander into this alley looking for directions. Okay. "I'm Nicky," he told Joe. He always went by 'Roberta' when he was out like this, but what the hell. It was his last job, and Joe had shared first. 

Joe beamed at him.

* * *

"Is this your actual place? Where you sleep?" Nicky asked, incredulous.

It was a small studio apartment, lovely and tidy except for the large work desk covered in art supplies, paintings and drafts and brushes and charcoal in piles organized by rules clearly there but undetectable by the naked eye. There was some serious work, some prints packaged for buyers, and then some random things that it looked like Joe was dabbling with like half-formed clay and wire sculptures. Unlike the desk, the kitchen was clean and neatly arranged, and the bed was made.

"Um, yes? Why, is it not nice? Should I have brought you somewhere nicer?" Joe fretted.

"No, I don't care, it's fine. Just…you're not supposed to bring someone you met off the street to your _home_ , now I know where you _live._ " Nicky was silently glad Joe had run into him and not some of the others he knew who would've been more inclined to return and rob him blind. "Did you not see that rule in your online reading?"

"Well, I did, but it sounded kind of prejudiced if I'm honest. I don't go around assuming every professional in the field of sex work wants to harm me."

Nicky fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose between his eyes. This guy really had zero sense of self-preservation. To give himself something to do with his hands besides rub his temples or maybe strangle some sense into Joe, Nicky began stripping methodically, dropping his clothes to the ground.

He looked up to ask if Joe wanted the wig to stay on and saw Joe just staring at him with wide, wide eyes. "Okay, so you weren't lying, you really have never done this before."

"Never," Joe confirmed. Nicky made the executive decision for him and took off the wig. Before he could say anything further, Joe continued: "I was raised in a very religious household, growing up. By the time I could even stomach the thought of sex, I was long past the age where my peers were exploring, and so I had missed my chance. And I was busy with my art anyway, so I didn't feel the absence of companionship too keenly. So it was many more years before I realized that I was more interested in men. That realization unlocked something inside me, a willingness to try even though I'm too old to be so inexperienced, and I thought maybe a professional might be better equipped to handle my vast ignorance."

"Oh." Nicky had meant never hired a hooker before, he didn't realize Joe had meant _never had sex before_.

For all that Joe had just admitted he's a big giant virgin, he didn't look embarrassed. Just sincere.

Nicky reached out a hand and touched Joe's face. Joe blinked at him, eyes dark and big. "Alright. I'll take care of you," Nicky promised.

He pushed Joe to sit on the side of his bed and unzipped his pants, helping him out of them and sinking to his knees gracefully.

Joe didn't last long. Nicky wasn't expecting him to, what with it being his first time, and not to brag or anything but Nicky knew he was particularly good at blow jobs. He also wasn't expecting Joe to continue being so politely respectful even in bed, asking for Nicky's permission every time before he wanted to try something, whether that was thrusting up or pulling his hair or even coming. 

Nicky said yes to it all, made a mess of lipstick and saliva and cum all over Joe. And then Joe asked if he could return the favour, and Nicky figured, well. As a treat. It was his last night doing this and Joe wanted try new things, it would be a favour for them both.

He verbally guided Joe through it, and while he wasn't very good—nobody was the first time—he took instructions well enough to get Nicky off. Joe looked startled by the taste of semen on his tongue but swallowed with a kind of furrowed determination that Nicky privately thought to himself was adorable. 

Joe was such a gentleman that he let Nicky have the shower first, though he claimed it's because Nicky had turned his legs to jelly and he wouldn't be able to stand up for at least a year. When Nicky came back out with a towel around his waist, Joe had counted out three times what Nicky would've charged. 

"I believe in fair compensation!" Joe said defensively, when he saw Nicky side-eyeing the amount of money.

"I wasn't going to argue against it," Nicky said with a shrug. He took the cash and tucked it into the pocket of his skirt, contemplating whether he should put it back on or hang around for a bit longer to make sure Joe felt alright about being a changed man now.

Joe's eyes fell to the floor and he looked more nervous than he did when he was about to have sex for the first time. "I know i'm not supposed to ask you to stay…" he began hesitantly.

Nicky rolled his eyes and dropped the skirt back down. "I'll stay, you big baby," he said, crawling back onto the bed. 

A hopeful delight lit up Joe's face and he asked, "Really?"

In lieu of replying, Nicky lay down and made himself comfortable before patting the mattress beside him. Joe was practically wriggling with excitement at the prospect of getting to cuddle, like some overgrown puppy. Nicky allowed him to hold him until they both fell asleep. He didn't make a habit of lying to himself, and so in the morning, when he woke to Joe's arms around him and Joe's nose buried in the back of his neck, he allowed himself to admit that it was nice.

Before he left, against his better judgement, because whatever was wrong with Joe must have been contagious or something, Nicky wrote down the number of his work mobile and gave it to Joe. He left quickly before he could overthink what he'd done or the look in Joe's eyes like he was giving him the world's greatest gift.

* * *

A week later, Joe called him.

Nicky's roommate, Nile, eyed the phone that buzzed on their dining table before Nicky snatched it up. "I thought that was a burner phone you were getting rid of," she said, heavy with implication.

Nicky didn't answer the question she wasn't asking, and told her he was going out for the night. "I probably won't be home til tomorrow, so don't wait up."

"Like I was going to wait up for your ass," Nile scoffed. Nicky knew she would've stayed up worrying if he hadn't said, and would probably leave leftovers in the fridge for him to heat up just in case he came back hungry, so he graced her with a smile before leaving.

Nicky went straight to Joe's apartment, which he remembered how to get to because Joe was a moron and Nicky knew his real address. He was welcomed in with a cheerful hug by a more dishevelled looking Joe than before, in a loose shirt covered in paint over his better-fitting clothes, flecks of paint in his hair and a streak of it on his chin.

"I deeply apologize for my appearance, Nicky! I always want to make myself look most presentable for you, but I lost track of time. I thought I could get cleaned up before you arrived but then I thought of how to fix the next layer in my last piece and got distracted."

"That's fine. I didn't get dressed up for you either." Nicky hadn't been in the mood for girl mode today and was simply wearing jeans and a t-shirt, no makeup, no wig, no accoutrements of what society generally considered feminine. "Is that okay with you?"

"You look beautiful no matter what you're wearing," Joe said solemnly.

That kind of compliment shouldn't make pleasure curl through Nicky's belly like that, but it was the way Joe said it. He rubs the back of his neck to hide how pleased he feels and looks around at the large canvases Joe has strewn about. "So, what's the big occasion? You said you had something to celebrate."

"I'm nearly finished an entire collection to send to a gallery. I thought I deserved to reward myself," Joe said, gesturing at his work with a sweeping hand.

"And I'm the reward?" Nicky said knowingly, biting his lower lip.

"I have thought of nothing but you all week, not only the beauty of your form but the kindness of your eyes, the brightness of your humour, the way your skin feels beneath my cheek and how it warms not only my body but also my soul," Joe said, in the way Nicky had already started to think of as typical of him. It wasn't the kind of thing he should say to a hooker, but, well, Nicky technically wasn't a hooker anymore and it was awfully nice to hear them.

"I guess you're okay too."

Joe laughed. "That's the wit I missed so much! Please, Nicky, I have been closed off from the world for days in a fury of creation, finalizing my work. Remind me what it means to be part of it again." 

Well, he didn't have to be asked twice. Nicky pushed the frankly gross paint shirt off him, and took his time kissing each stretch of his body that was revealed as he continued to take the other articles of clothing off him as well, one by one. He let Joe practice his newly learned cocksucking skills on him again—he wasn't much better this time, but Nicky could be a very committed teacher when he wanted to be—and then made him lie back on the bed.

"I want you to have a good view so you remember how this looks," Nicky informed him, as he straddled his legs and arched his back, miles of smooth skin on display for Joe as he sank slowly down onto his lap and began to ride him.

Nicky didn't have any particular thing for virginity or deflowering anyone, but something about knowing it was Joe's first time being inside of anyone made him feel…powerful. Special. Protective, almost. He wanted to make it good for Joe, wanted to make sure it would always be good for Joe, that someone would always be good to Joe and keep that look of gentle wonder on his face.

Joe's hands gripped his hips without being harsh, grounding and real but solicitous, attentive, like everything he did. He gasped and shook and his eyes looked a bit wet, staring up at Nicky like he couldn't believe he was real. A gal could get used to being looked at like that.

When they finished, Joe didn't ask him to stay, but the enormous puppy eyes that he turned on Nicky essentially did the same thing without words.

"Ugh, fine," Nicky said, but the smile that he couldn't stop from stealing across his face ruined his ability to pretend to be giving in very grudgingly. 

It was too early yet to go to sleep, so eventually Joe pieced himself back together enough to throw pants on and go back to finishing his last painting. Nicky, feeling no obligation to get dressed, lounged naked on his bed and watched him.

"So what's the exhibition about?" he asked idly. The muscles in Joe's back flexed rather attractively as he moved the brush over the canvas. "I don't have much of an eye for art, but they look good."

Without looking away from his work, Joe began explaining the thoughts behind this collection to him, about the themes and artistic statement holding it together but also what his thoughts were behind each piece, what new processes he experimented with and what new things he learned about specific techniques along the way. Nicky felt like he was learning something too, not just about art but about Joe.

Joe hadn't been kidding when he had said that he'd been a loner most of his life, first because of religion and then because of art. He was very single-minded about things when he got into them—case in point, he was so focused on putting down the last details onto this piece that he didn't even look over at Nicky, who was very naked and stretching provocatively, hoping to distract him. As Joe went on to explain how the exhibit would be arranged, he went off on a side story about how this gallery deal came about through his manager, Andy, working her magic. Andy was one of his only friends, Joe said, and yes he was aware how sad it was that one of his only friends in the whole world was also someone he paid to manage his work. Nicky, who firmly didn't believe that money necessarily cheapened relationships, shrugged and replied that she sounded like she believed in him. 

"She does," Joe said, pausing to smile at nothing in particular, some memory Nicky didn't yet know, probably. "But what does it say about me? I only have one other friend, Booker, and I just hired him too."

Nicky snorted and refrained from joking that maybe Joe's love language was being other people's sugar daddy. 

Joe had apparently hired Booker recently to help deal with his 'online presence,' whatever that meant, and it sounded less like Joe needed an online presence and more like it was because Booker was down on his luck and desperately needed a job. 

"You're a good friend," Nicky said, "even if you don't think you have much practice at it."

Joe finally put down his brushes and wiped his brow. It left a new smear of paint on his face, striking Nicky with the divine inspiration to suggest a shower together.

Joe was, through small steps and constant practice, better at blow jobs the third time around.

When they finally went to bed for sleeping purposes, Nicky let him wrap his arms around his waist again, holding him close from behind. 

The next morning, Joe handed over a borderline alarmingly thick wad of bills. 

"Okay, I know I took the cash last time but even I think this might be too much."

"It's only fair! I took up not only your night but also your entire evening. Your time is precious and worth it."

Nicky felt a little guilty about not telling him that he was technically not even a hooker anymore, and honestly might have come even without being paid, but money was money and he definitely still needed it. The new job, for all of its perks (such as not needing to suck off disgusting men who didn't wash well enough, not taking bullshit from insecure people on the down low with internalized homophobia, and a much better sleeping schedule), didn't pay as much and he still had debts he needed to pay off. Joe was offering the money freely, happily. 

He took it.

Joe grinned at him and said something flowery about how he hoped Nicky would still grace him with the honour of his presence even though he was off the clock now, just long enough for him to make him breakfast. Nicky pushed aside the last of the lingering guilt and said, "Sure."

He had to revise that 'sure' shortly after, because Joe was burning the eggs _and_ the toast somehow, at the same time, and Nicky said, "The reason I'm off the clock now is because you couldn't pay me enough to eat this, what is wrong with you," as he shouldered Joe away from the stovetop.

He took over the making of breakfast, making them both French toast and Joe beamed at him as they ate it over the counter because the dining table was too cluttered with Joe's art supplies.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the course of the next month, Joe called Nicky more than a few times and Nicky went over each time. They got up to plenty of activities in bed, but they also watched movies, made dinner together, even went out for breakfast together sometimes. Between all of this, and all of the frankly adorable squabbling banter, Nicky just never quite found the right time to tell Joe to stop paying him. 

It sort of didn't matter anyway, because Joe treated him like a human being he wasn't paying. 

He was exceptionally good at reading Nicky's moods, and unlike anyone Nicky had ever met, even including Nile who had taken it the most in stride, he didn't need any explanation for Nicky's occasional predilection for dressing in clothing traditionally assigned to those society declared feminine. He was always happy to see him as he was, however he was.

Tonight, for example, Nicky's nails were painted a lovely deep burgundy with a glittering top coat, eyes fully adorned with smokey shadow but face unshaven, his stubble a contrast against the softness of his makeup. He had on a simple t-shirt and hoodie combo but there was a frilly, lacey surprise underneath his jeans for Joe to find. He rapped on Joe's door again, unsure why he was taking so long to open up.

"Sorry, sorry, _tesoro mio_ ," Joe called, yanking open the door in a fluster with a towel in one hand. "I got caught up in something and I had to wash the pigments off my hands so I don't ruin your beautiful clothes, but it was harder to get out than I expected."

"You always get caught up in something," Nicky said, slipping inside and kissing Joe's cheek as he passed. 

"I do, it is one of my many faults that you put up with," Joe agreed.

"Shut up," Nicky told him fondly, looking around at what he's been up to. It was later than he usually came over, so it felt like it was too late to cook him dinner, which Nicky enjoyed doing. He asked Joe if he ate, just in case, because Joe was prone to forgetting that kind of thing when he was elbows deep in some new project.

Joe said yes in an absent-minded way, and Nicky couldn't know for sure if that was a real yes because he wasn't nearly as good at reading Joe's tells as Joe was at reading his. 

"Well, since we're not eating, what else can we do?" Nicky asked, quirking and eyebrow as he walked into Joe and crowded him into the kitchen until his back hit the fridge. 

"It sounds like you might have some suggestions."

Nicky leaned in and took his lips in a kiss, deep and lush right from the start without taking any time to work up to it, his tongue nudging against Joe's, his teeth nipping him whenever he pulled away for air, never giving him long enough to properly catch his breath before diving back in and greedily swallowing the noises he pulled from him. When Nicky's fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, however, Joe backed away in earnest.

Nicky followed his line of sight to the table where he had his work set out, the custom inks he seemed to have been in the middle of mixing before, and asked, "Did you want to go back to finishing that instead?"

"No! No, I invited you over because I wanted to see you, I would never be so rude as to choose anything else over your company."

"My company's not going anywhere, I can stay and wait for you to wrap up."

Joe looked at him like he was a genius for innovating an idea he had never heard of before. "Would you really?"

"Just hurry up and get to it," Nicky replied already busying himself with Joe's music collection and deciding what to put on. 

He chose something mellow, not quite romantic but cozy, and he lit a few nice candles that he himself had brought over before, to set an _ambience_. He puttered for a bit, fluffing up pillows on Joe's couch and flicking through channels on his TV, occasionally glancing to watch Joe do whatever it was he was doing and catching his eye more often than not, Joe's gaze always going to him even when he was in the middle of a task. 

Once Joe had completed his inks to his satisfaction cleaned it all up properly, he joined Nicky on the couch and straddled his lap. 

Their mouths found each other once more, and Nicky mentally congratulated himself on a job well done when Joe knew exactly how to grind down just right. They rubbed off against each other, panting into each other's mouths, hands wandering up shirts and down pants, but despite the fact that Joe had taken extra time to finish up what was distracting him before, he still seemed restless. 

After the third time Joe's fingers skimmed over the button of Nicky's jeans without undoing it, Nicky finally pulled away and asked, "Do you not want to?"

Joe instantly sat his butt down more firmly, using his weight to keep Nicky on the couch, and said in a hurry, "No, yes, I do, please don't go."

"Do I look like I'm going?"

Joe cocked his head at Nicky like a big confused retriever.

"Tell me what's on your mind, _sciocco_ ," he said while rolling his eyes. When Joe didn't spit it out, Nicky pinched the skin above his hip. It caused Joe to squirm in interesting ways, but Nicky didn't allow himself to be distracted.

Eventually, after a bit more cajoling and wheedling and pinching, Joe said, "I just want you to be here, in the same space with me."

"I'm here with you right now."

"Yes," Joe agreed, not denying the factual nature of this statement.

"You're not in the mood for sex, but you want to cuddle," Nicky surmised.

"It sounds stupid when you say it like that," Joe pouted.

"I think it sounds nice," Nicky said, his hands winding around Joe's waist rather unnecessarily because Joe made no move to get off of him. "Are you saying it's stupid that I think it would be nice?"

"No, of course not," Joe said, frowning in consternation at how he knows Nicky is playing him, taking advantage of his tendency to launch into long, lengthy declarations about how valid every thought and feeling of Nicky's is. 

"Well we're in agreement then." Nicky shifted them around, rearranging their limbs on the couch until Joe was in his preferred position of being some kind of octopus backpack around Nicky, and Joe let out several satisfied noises, finally settling down in a way he wasn't before.

Nicky wasn't surprised that Joe was just seeking companionship. He had honestly suspected that even his first sexual awakening was driven more by being lonely than horny. They watched a few episodes of some mindless show with Joe nosing at Nicky's hair, and then moved to the bed, where Nicky reiterated that he was going to stay even if Joe wasn't in the mood for sex.

The next morning, when Joe tried to give his customary payment to Nicky, the increasing feeling of being an asshole for taking his money reached a breaking point.

"No, not this time," Nicky said firmly, folding the bills and putting them back into Joe's pocket. 

"Is it because we didn't have sex? Did I take up your night when you could have been earning money?" he asked, distraught. "Oh god, it's like I stole from you, I must apologize deeply—"

Interrupting his distress, Nicky knew he had to come clean once and for all. They couldn't go on like this, especially when it was very obvious to both of them that what they felt for each other didn't exist purely in the transactional realm. "No, listen. I wasn't working last night."

"You took the night off?" 

"Kind of. I like being around you even when it's not my job. I wanted to be here. I'm not a hooker anymore."

There it was, out in the open at last.

Joe looked surprised and overjoyed, but he also concerned. "Nicky, you know you don't have to quit on account of me, please tell me you know that? I like you too, I _know_ you know that, and I will keep liking you regardless if your profession is in the field of sex work, it truly changes nothing of how I feel for you."

Nicky heaved a sigh through his nostrils, mentally asking the heavens above why he was blessed and cursed with someone as sweet and clueless as Joe. He left it there for now, but resolved to return to this issue later until Joe fully understood what he actually meant.

* * *

The next time Nicky's old burner phone, which by this point had become Nicky's Joe-only phone, rang again, Nile could no longer resist the urge to say something.

"Do you need me to spot you a couple hundred or something?" she asked. "Cause I can help you out if you're in trouble. This is like the tenth time I've seen you using your hooking phone lately. You don't have to go back to it if you need money."

"It's not like that, Nile," Nicky told her before he answered the call. 

Nile continued to say something, and she truly was an angel of a roommate and the kindest friend a person could ever hope to have, but Nicky didn't hear exactly what she said because all his attention zeroed in on Joe's voice. It was wet and wobbly, like he had been crying.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, already pulling on a jacket and moving out the door.

"What's going on?" Nile asked, trailing behind him.

"Nothing, I'll be back later," Nicky said to her, muffling the phone against his chest for a moment. "I'm not in trouble, I just have to go, my…boyfriend needs help."

"Wait, _what_?"

Nicky was gone without further explaining, hurrying his way to Joe's place as he left Nile's confused questions behind. 

He practically sprinted the whole way there, out of breath when he arrived, whereupon Joe promptly flung himself in his arms and wailed, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't ask you to do so much emotional labour for me and I truly respect your boundaries!" through tears.

"Please shut the fuck up and tell me what's wrong," Nicky said, heart pounding not just from how fast he had run but also how worried he had been that Joe was hurt. How worried he still was, because Joe was bawling, great big sobs like he was inconsolable, and Nicky had never seen him like that before. He was so overcome with despair that he didn't even have a smartass retort about how he couldn't shut the fuck up and tell Nicky what the matter was at the same time, that's how Nicky could tell he really was too upset to function.

Nicky rocked him as he hiccupped his way through a story that Nicky had to piece together himself, between getting a glass of water for Joe, wiping his face with a cold washcloth, and tucking him in with a blanket on the couch. He had somehow found out that his friend Booker had betrayed his trust by skimming money off Andy's cut in a deal. What had him so beside himself wasn't the money, of course, but the fact that Booker had gone behind his back, had hurt not just him but also his only other friend, that he had felt like he needed to do this instead of coming to Joe and asking for a bit of help with his finances. That he made Joe look like a fool for trusting him. That Joe felt like a fool still because he continued to love his friend and wanted to know if the stolen funds had been enough or if he still needed help, despite the black icy pressure that gripped his chest whenever he thought of Booker. 

Nicky hushed him and kissed his eyelids, hot and swollen from crying, and petted his hair until he fell into an exhausted sleep. As his fingers tangled into those curls, he thought about Nile's offer to lend him money when she thought he was in trouble, made genuinely and guilelessly and without expectation, how much she cared for him and he cared for her in return. He thought about how Joe always tried to press more money into Nicky's hand than Nicky would've ever charged him even if he was still working, how without making a big deal or indeed any deal of it at all Joe had declared that he had feelings for Nicky that were entirely separate from and unchanged by what he assumed Nicky's profession was. How Joe thought he only had two friends in the world, maybe one now, how Joe thought he was meant for a life of loneliness.

Sleeping on the couch wasn't an entirely pleasant experience for his spine, but Nicky was loathe to move Joe and he knew Joe preferred to wake up with Nicky's back plastered to his front. He turned in his arms when he felt Joe stir in the morning. 

"Good morning," he murmured, and watched Joe's face brighten in happiness to see him first thing, and then dim as memories of what happened caught back up to his conscious mind. It made Nicky's heart ache, and steeled his resolve for what needed to be done.

"Hey, listen—I need to tell you something," he said, in a tone that was perhaps too serious because Joe looked alarmed enough that he might cry again. Nicky quickly leaned in and kissed him before pulling off the bandaid quickly. "I'm not a hooker anymore. And I mean I haven't been a hooker since the first time we met. I got a job but money was still kind of tight for a bit and you were offering so I didn't say no, but if people keep financially taking advantage of you I don't want to be one of them. I'll pay you back if you want, or owe you, or we'll work out something."

This time it was Joe's turn to interrupt him with a kiss. It was an effective move either way it went. 

"Don't pay me back, you don't owe me anything," he said. His eyes were puffy and it made Nicky want to meet this Booker just so he could give him a piece of his mind. 

"But—"

"No, you put a lot of work into teaching me and it really helped me, I was happy to pay you. I res—"

"You respect the profession, I know, I know," Nicky said, but he couldn't stop the corner of his lips from being pulled up. Joe was powerful like that. "But it isn't my profession, it hadn't been for longer than I let you believe. I didn't mean to lie to you, I just wasn't very forthcoming in communicating with you. I want to change that."

Joe really did look like he might cry again any second now, eyes wet and bottom lip trembling, but Nicky took a wild guess that it might be happy tears. 

"Let's start fresh, okay? Totally clear communication from now on." He reached down to fumble around with the jacket he had thrown to the floor last night and managed to fish out his phone, his real phone. "There. Just texted you from the number I actually use for my real life, the number you had before was my work phone that I don't use anymore. I'm getting rid of it, use this number from now on."

"Okay," Joe agreed, sounding choked up.

"Take me out for brunch today and let me invite my roommate. I scared her last night when I dropped everything to come over here. I'll introduce you, and you can introduce me to Andy later." His voice took on a hard edge. "You can introduce me to Booker later."

A tear slipped out of the corner of Joe's eye and Nicky thumbed it away. "Okay," he agreed again.

It was hard to believe that after weeks, almost months of internally wrestling with the dilemma of how to explain to Joe the misunderstanding that he had allowed to go on for much longer than he meant to without hurting him or making him think that Nicky didn't genuinely care for him, it could be this easy. But that was Joe. He made things like this easy. "Okay," Nicky echoed, wrapping his hand around the back of Joe's neck so he could draw him into a proper kiss that wasn't just meant for shutting someone up, and he really did believe that things were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta dah! Complete. Thank you so much for reading, and please do let me know whether you enjoyed it! If you want, you can find me on tumblr [here](http://riseagainphoenix.tumblr.com/), although full disclosure I don't post about The Old Guard or much of anything at all, sorry. You can still say hi if you'd like, sometimes I'm easily tricked into writing your fic prompts LIKE FOR EXAMPLE WITH THIS FIC.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. If you like this so far, I'm excited for you to see chapter two, where Things Happen and some of them may even surprise you.  
> Title from Joanna Newsom's "Peach Plum Pear."  
> Much much thanks to the Joe/Nicky discord server for the cheerleading and general good times.


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